Why Doors Are Best Kept Locked
by xXQuoth NevermorexX
Summary: First Class. Charles and Erik enjoy a night out at a bar. However, a handsome stranger tries to come on to a tipsy Charles. BAD IDEA. Erik/Charles.


**A/N: **Well, X-Men: First Class came out yesterday and you had better believe I went and bought it first thing in the morning! Then, of course, I watched it, all the while mentally drooling. It really is just a fantastic movie and...SO MUCH CHARIK. Unf. Seriously, the friend I was watching it with kept screaming towards the end: "No! You two HAVE to make it work!" If that doesn't prove how legit Charik is, I don't know what does. But anyway, ta-dah! Here's ANOTHER fic from me. This is honestly like a disease, I can't stop! They're just heartbreaking perfection. Okay, I'm done now...

Disclaimer: I still don't own X-Men, or Charles, or Erik. If I did, I would have fulfilled mine, my friend's, and every Charik lover's wishes ad made things work out for them!

If it was at all possible, Charles Xavier became ten times cuter when he was tipsy. Erik Lensherr mused this as he sat on a bar stool, nursing his glass of beer while being entertained by Charles weaving in and out of the crowd of people, slurring encouragements for them to join him in drinking- "Man, you-youhavegottatrythisss. This is a very _groovy_ brandy..."- or simply pointing out various mutations that each individual may or may not-depending on just how drunk Charles was- have had. Erik recalled Charles telling him that he was only going to have "one glass of brandy" when they arrived at the bar and now here he was, numerous glasses later, a deep red dusting his cheeks and his earlobes.

Erik merely shook his head. Charles was a very, very interesting person especially given that a man his age was still using the word "groovy". Still, all of his idiosyncrasies made him into the beautiful man that was Charles Xavier an that in and of itself was good enough for Erik.

"He's pretty sexy, that Xavier, isn't he?" Erik's ears perked up and he looked to his right where a woman with long, dishwater blonde hair and a pretty prominent chest was whispering to her brunette friend who was sporting a pixie cut. In theory, they were both very pretty girls but what Erik mostly dreaded was the hungry way they were both looking at Charles. _His _Charles. However, this prospect was nothing new to Erik. He'd been dealing with people pining after his love ever since that McTaggert woman. Neither did it shock him; Charles was beautiful physically and internally. He knew he couldn't be the only one who ever recognized it. Nonetheless he _was_ to be the only one who would be able to do anything about his attraction to Charles, he made damn sure of that.

He smirked to himself and inclined his body slightly to the blonde woman beside him.

"Sorry to point out, but he's gay. Not only that, but he has a boyfriend. Guy's a real asshole at that. So, if I were you, I wouldn't even try." He whispered huskily to her and something about the way both her and her friend's faces fell that lit a fire of excitement and victory in his gut.

He turned back to face Charles just as he saw the blonde pout and fold her arms across her chest. Erik had to stifle a slight chuckle. Admittedly, it really wasn't fair. The way he saw it, Charles was much like one of those priceless gems you see in display cases; enticing, exciting, wildly beautiful, and yet, no one could touch him. No one but Erik anyway. In that sense, it made him almost feel sorry for those humans who so greatly longed for him. _Almost._

Erik took a sip of his warm lager and concurrently noticed that he'd lost sight of Charles in the crowd of people. He scanned the crowd this way and that, but he still couldn't locate his boyfriend. It was when he found him that he'd nearly choked on his drink. A tall, muscular man with dark hair and eyes that were absolutely swimming in alcohol was pressing in on Charles.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing here alone, hmm?" The man purred to Charles.

Charles, suddenly feeling a tad sobered, shook his head. "I'm not here alone."

"I don't see anyone with you." The man pursued and as he kept attempting to get closer to Charles, Charles was slinking backwards, trying to avoid the man at all costs. It was when Charles' back came into contact with a wooden door that he realized he could no longer go anywhere.

Charles' icy blue eyes flickered with concern as the man pinned himself against him, his hands holding most his weight and pressed up against the door, and peered down at him with drunken longing. The man raised his eyebrows suggestively an leaned in, causing Charles to gulp.

Erik's brow furrowed. _Oh, hell no._ He lifted his hand and moved his fingers intricately, causing the metal doorknob of said door to react to his powers. Before the man had the chance to connect his lips with Charles', the door upon which he an Charles were leaning flew open. Given that Charles had been pressed against it, he merely lost his footing and landed on his rear. The man, on the other hand, due to the fact that he'd been supporting himself on the door, had stumbled and completely fallen into the broom closet to which the door led. Charles instantaneously understood what had happened and, getting up and brushing himself off, threaded his way through the crowd once more, making his way to Erik but not before uttering a "Sorry!" to the dazed, drunk man who had fallen. The crowd of people, in turn, was mainly laughing hysterically, most assuming that the door had given in or that Charles himself had purposely opened the door.

Charles walked up to Erik and gave him a sheepish smile. His cheeks were quite red, though Erik thought that this was mainly due to embarrassment for his actions.

"Uh...can we please go home, friend?"

Erik's anger had completely dissolved once he'd seen Charles' gorgeous smile. He felt himself smile, as a matter of fact.

"Absolutely. I don't really care much for the people here anyway." He shrugged his leather coat on, placed a few bills on the bar to pay for his drinks, and walked out of the bar beside his beloved Charles.

The blonde with the dishwater blonde hair, who had been dying to talk to Charles all night long, but felt rather discouraged after Erik's speech watched the two walk out together. She'd assumed that they'd had to have been best friend or something from the way they acted, but she could have sworn she saw the two link hands as they crossed the threshold of the bar and just before the door swung shut behind them.

**A/N: **Alright, short, sweet, to the point. I think there's a valuable lesson in all of this: Yes, Charles Xavier is a wonderful, gorgeous creature, but for the love of all things good in this world, DO NOT touch him. Just don't do it. Because Erik Lensherr will find you and pretty much overpower you in several different languages. I can't help it, I love a jealous Erik. I mean, really, who wouldn't be when you're with someone like Charles? Oh yes, and I had to mention Moira. I really don't dislike her, but rather, she is what I lovingly refer to as "the obligatory slash-blocker". You know, that female in some sort of movie, comic series, book, tv show, etc that manages to somehow come between two males characters that are CLEARLY in love, just for the sake of being socially acceptable? Well, that's what she epitomizes to me anyway. I'm strange, I know. Please do read and review! It'll help me keep this Charik train goin'!


End file.
